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kookie-doughs · 3 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 19: Sand On My Feet Are The Worst

Imagine the largest concert crowd you've ever seen, a football field packed with a million fans. Now imagine a field a million times that big, packed with people, and imagine the electricity has gone out, and there is no noise, no light, no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd. Something tragic has happened backstage. Whispering masses of people are just milling around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start.

If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like. The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees—Grover told me they were poplars—grew in clumps here and there.

The cavern ceiling was so high above us it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. I tried not to imagine they'd fall on us at any moment, but dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass. I guess the dead didn't have to worry about little hazards like being speared by stalactites the size of booster rockets. Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and I tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. I couldn't help looking for familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, but the dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away. The dead aren't scary. They're just sad.

Don't worry... Death isn't bad compared to life. We crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read: JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION Welcome, Newly Deceased! Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines. To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path toward the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas. Even from far away, I could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. I could just make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top. And I saw worse tortures, too—things I don't want to describe. The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down toward a small valley surrounded by walls—a gated community, which seemed to be the only happy part of the Underworld. Beyond the security gate were neighborhoods of beautiful houses from every time period in history, Roman villas and medieval castles and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors. I could hear laughter and smell barbecue cooking. Elysium. In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake, with three small islands like a vacation resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three times, and three times achieved Elysium. Immediately I knew that's where I wanted to go when I died. If I die.

"I am so ready to die if that's where I'll go." "That's what it's all about," Annabeth said, "That's the place for heroes." But I thought of how few people there were in Elysium, how tiny it was compared to the Fields of Asphodel or even the Fields of Punishment. So few people did good in their lives. It was depressing. We left the judgment pavilion and moved deeper into the Asphodel Fields. It got darker. The colors faded from our clothes. The crowds of chattering spirits began to thin. After a few miles of walking, we began to hear a familiar screech in the distance. Looming on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian. Above the parapets swirled three dark bat like creatures: the Furies. I got the feeling they were waiting for us. "I suppose it's too late to turn back," Percy said wistfully. "We'll be okay." I smiled. "Maybe we should search some of the other places first," Grover suggested. "Like, Elysium, for instance..." "Come on, goat boy." Annabeth grabbed his arm. Grover yelped. His sneakers sprouted wings and his legs shot forward, pulling him away from Annabeth. He landed flat on his back in the grass. "Grover," Annabeth chided. "Stop messing around." "But I didn't—" He yelped again. His shoes were flapping like crazy now. They levitated off the ground and started dragging him away from us. "Maia!" he yelled, but the magic word seemed to have no effect. "Maia, already! Nine-one-one! Help!" I got over being stunned and made a grab for Grover's hand, but too late. He was picking up speed, skidding downhill like a bobsled. We ran after him. Annabeth shouted, "Untie the shoes!" It was a smart idea, but I guess it's not so easy when your shoes are pulling you along feetfirst at full speed. Grover tried to sit up, but he couldn't get close to the laces. We kept after him, trying to keep him in sight as he ripped between the legs of spirits who chattered at him in annoyance. I was sure Grover was going to barrel straight through the gates of Hades's palace, but his shoes veered sharply to the right and dragged him in the opposite direction. The slope got steeper. Grover picked up speed. Annabeth, Percy and I had to sprint to keep up. The cavern walls narrowed on either side, and I realized we'd entered some kind of side tunnel. No black grass or trees now, just rock underfoot, and the dim light of the stalactites above. "Grover!" Percy yelled, my voice echoing. "Hold on to something!" "What?" he yelled back. He was grabbing at gravel, but there was nothing big enough to slow him down. The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on my arms bristled. It smelled evil down here. It made me think of things I shouldn't even know about—blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of a murderer. Percy saw what was ahead of us, and he stopped dead in my tracks. The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city block. Grover was sliding straight toward the edge. "Come on, Percy!" I yelled, tugging at his wrist. "But that's—" "I know!" Annabeth shouted. "The place you described in your dream! But Grover's going to fall if we don't catch him." She was right, of course. Grover's predicament got me moving again. He was yelling, clawing at the ground, but the winged shoes kept dragging him toward the pit, and it didn't look like we could possibly get to him in time. What saved him were his hooves. The flying sneakers had always been a loose fit on him, and finally Grover hit a big rock and the left shoe came flying off. It sped into the darkness, down into the chasm. The right shoe kept tugging him along, but not as fast. Grover was able to slow himself down by grabbing on to the big rock and using it like an anchor. He was ten feet from the edge of the pit when we caught him and hauled him back up the slope. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, circled around us angrily and kicked our heads in protest before flying off into the chasm to join its twin. We all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel.

"Are you okay?" Grover was scratched up pretty bad. His hands were bleeding. His eyes had gone slit-pupiled, goat style, the way they did whenever he was terrified. "I don't know how..." he panted. "I didn't..." "Wait," I said. "Listen." I heard something—a deep whisper in the darkness. Another few seconds, and Annabeth said, "Y/N, this place—" "Shh." I stood. The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below us. Coming from the pit. Grover sat up. "Wh—what's that noise?" Annabeth heard it too, now. I could see it in her eyes. "Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus."

I turned to Percy, he uncapped Riptide. The bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant. I could almost make out words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek. As if... "Magic," I said. "We have to get out of here," Annabeth said. Annabeth and I dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel. Percy was lagging behind us. The voice got louder and angrier behind us, and we broke into a run. Not a moment too soon. A cold blast of wind pulled at our backs, as if the entire pit were inhaling. For a terrifying moment, Percy lost ground, I luckily got a hold of him. If we'd been any closer to the edge, we would've been sucked in. We kept struggling forward, and finally reached the top of the tunnel, where the cavern widened out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died. A wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. Something was not happy we'd gotten away. "What was that?" Grover panted, when we'd collapsed in the relative safety of a black poplar grove. "One of Hades's pets?"

No... We all know what's down there. Annabeth and Percy looked at each other. I could tell they knew what's down there. Percy capped his sword, put the pen back in jis pocket. "Let's keep going."

I looked at Grover. "Can you walk?" He swallowed. "Yeah, sure. I never liked those shoes, anyway." He tried to sound brave about it, but he was trembling as badly as Annabeth and I were. Whatever was in that pit was nobody's pet. It was unspeakably old and powerful. Even Echidna hadn't given me that feeling. I was almost relieved to turn my back on that tunnel and head toward the palace of Hades. Almost. The Furies circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open. Up close, I saw that the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times—an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls—but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. I wondered if I was looking at prophecies that had come true. Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden I'd ever seen. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as my fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues— petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs—all smiling grotesquely. In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark. "The garden of Persephone," Annabeth said. "Keep walking." I understood why she wanted to move on. The tart smell of those pomegranates was almost overwhelming. I had a sudden desire to eat them, but then I remembered the story of Persephone. One bite of Underworld food, and we would never be able to leave. I pulled Grover away to keep him from picking a big juicy one. We walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above. I guess they never had to worry about rain down here. Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered us, but their hollow eye sockets followed us as we walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end.

Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at us, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests. "You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen." "Well, guys," I said. "I suppose we should ... knock?" A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside. "I guess that means entrez-vous," Annabeth said.

A god we shall meet. But this one's different. The room inside looked just like in my dream, except this time the throne of Hades was occupied. He was the third god I'd met, but the first who really struck me as godlike. He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther. I immediately felt like he should be giving the orders. He knew more than I did. He should be my master. Then I told myself to snap out of it. Hades's aura was affecting me, just as Ares's had. The Lord of the Dead resembled pictures I'd seen of Adolph Hitler, or Napoleon, or the terrorist leaders who direct suicide bombers. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma. "You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he said in an oily voice. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

I fought the feeling to step forward.

Percy knew what to say, he had to be the one to talk... "Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. The ADHD part of me wondered, off-task, whether the rest of his clothes were made the same way. What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades's underwear? "Only two requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet." I glanced at the empty, smaller throne next to Hades's. It was shaped like a black flower, gilded with gold. I wished Queen Persephone were here. I recalled something in the myths about how she could calm her husband's moods. But it was summer. Of course, Persephone would be above in the world of light with her mother, the goddess of agriculture, Demeter. Her visits, not the tilt of the planet, create the seasons. Annabeth cleared her throat. Her finger prodded Percy in the back. "Lord Hades," Percy said. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be... bad." "Really bad," Grover added helpfully. "Return Zeus's master bolt to me," Percy said. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus." Hades's eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?" Percy glanced back to us. "Um... Uncle," He said. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?" The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits. Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?" "Well, these guys don't look like peace activists." I accidentally slipped.

The three of them looked at me in surprise. Hades glared at me.

"The unclaimed." He scoffed. "You are as foolish as every Gods had said."

I wanted to say more but Annabeth had grabbed me and forced me to bow.

"U-Uhm... Y-You are the Lord of the Dead," Percy said carefully. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?" "A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?" "Well..." "Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?" Hades was on a roll now. Go Hades. "More security ghouls," he moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses!" "Charon wants a pay raise," I smirked. "Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. "He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war." "But you took Zeus's master bolt." "Lies!" More rumbling. Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goalpost. "Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan." "His plan?" "You were the thief on the winter solstice," he said. "Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus, You took the master bolt and my helm. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open. You will be exposed as Poseidon's thief, and I will have my helm back!" "But...." Annabeth spoke. I could tell her mind was going a million miles an hour. "Lord Hades, your helm of darkness is missing, too?" "Do not play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr have been helping this hero—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?" "No!" Percy said. "Poseidon didn't—I didn't—" "I have said nothing of the helm's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you." "You didn't try to stop us? But—" "Return my helm now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "That is my counterproposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson—your skeleton will lead my army out of Hades."

The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready.

At that point, I probably should have been terrified. The strange thing was, I felt offended. Nothing gets me angrier than being accused of something I didn't do. I've had a lot of experience with that. "You're as bad as Zeus and Poseidon," I said. "You think Percy stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after us?" "Of course," Hades said. "And the other monsters?" Hades curled his lip. "I had nothing to do with them. I wanted no quick death for you—I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?" "Easily?" I scoffed. "You are the worse! My gods! I hate all of you!" I was gripping my hair laughing like a maniac.

Annabeth was about to grab me when I shrugged her and walked forward which alerted everyone.

"Wat---"

"Wait up, I let you go on a roll dead guy. My turn." I hissed staring at him right in the eye.

We are going to talk.

I had no idea why but no one moved, Hades looked at me curiously then to my friends who are either scared of Hades's upcoming wrath or mine.

"Do carry on."

"Listen here big guy." Pointing my finger at him, "You. Are. Mean. Are all gods stupid and mean?! I can't get close to water since I was a kid because there's an idiot who hates me! And here I am trying to help him get something! And he hadn't even bothered to keep his hate for me until this stupid quest is over!!" I panted.

"Y/---"

"Not yet goat boy!" I pointed at what ever was above us. "and that stuck up, up there who thinks he's all high and mighty? Does he have to cause a war?! Can't he just get down from his high throne none of this would happen if he wasn't all high and mighty when all he could do is take a child's parents because they cheated on sims!"

"I don---"

"And you Mr. Emo! You've had Mrs. Dodds on Percy! What made you think he's have your stupid helmet?! When did he get it? During his potty time?! Did his father Amazon that thing to him or something?! We. Don't. Have. Anything! Grover doesn't even have shoes!! What made you think we'd have the luxury of carrying the bolt and helm but not extra shoes for the goat?!"

"Y/N!" Percy yelled.

"What?!"

"If you're done with your point calm down... I don't think Lord Hades would be kind enough to entertain you anymore..." Annabeth whispered.

"I am almost done." I took a deep breath. And walked closer to actually be able to touch him, the three behind me caught their breath. "... My parents... are M/N and F/N L/N. I am Y/N L/N. I don't care which all mighty it is. I am not unclaimed. I will get them back. I will save them. And I will come back here and get on with you again if I have to just to save them. Because they're my parents, I have no other." I then gave him a smile which was a total turn of my emotions, "And kill me now if you will. Just know, I'll be here in your kingdom forever which ever part and I will be taking it as a compliment of how much you enjoy my company."

He was much larger than I was so all I could do there was shove whatever I could, then walked back to Percy.

They all looked at Hades, he was going to kill us. That was one thing everyone agreed on.

Nine. I chose that prophecy. You are aware of my prophecy. You are aware of who our parents are after all.

"Y/N L/N, daughter of L/N. It's foolish of you to talk to me like that. You best be careful of how you talk to Gods. Others won't hesitate killing you."

The other three were stunned. Looking between me and Hades. "Whoa, wait a minute. You won't kill me? Are you saying it was cool I talked to you like that? "

"I will not kill you." Hades emphasized on the word 'you' and looked at Percy, Grover and Annabeth. "And I may spare your friends, if you return what is mine." "We don't have it." Pointing at Percy, "Open your pack, then." A horrible feeling struck me.

Percy slung it off his shoulder and unzipped it. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy. "Percy," Annabeth said. "How—" "I—I don't know. I don't understand." "You heroes are always the same," Hades said. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now... my helm. Where is it?" I was speechless. I knew Percy had no helm. I had no idea how the master bolt had gotten into his backpack. I wanted to think Hades was pulling some kind of trick.

I realized we've been played with. Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades had been set at each other's throats by someone else. The master bolt had been in the backpack, and I'd gotten the backpack from... "Hades bro, wait," I said. "This is all a mistake."

"Bro?" Percy looked at me. "A mistake?" Hades roared. The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there was a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne. Mrs. Rudolph grinned at Percy eagerly and flicked her whip. "There is no mistake," Hades said. "I know why you have come—I know the real reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for her." Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of me, and there was Mrs. Jackson, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death. I couldn't speak. Percy reached out to touch her, but the light was as hot as a bonfire. "Yes," Hades said with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change." "Ah, the pearls," Hades said, and my blood froze. I turned to see Percy with his hands in his pocket. "Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson." Percy brought out the pearls. "Only four," Hades said. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms." Percy looked at Me, Annabeth and Grover. Their faces were grim. "We were tricked," Percy told them. "Set up." "Yes, but why?" Annabeth asked. "And the voice in the pit—" "I don't know yet," Percy said. "But I intend to ask." "Decide, boy!" Hades yelled. "Percy." Grover put his hand on his shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt," "I know that." "Leave me here," he said. "Use the third pearl on your mom."

"No!" "I'm a satyr," Grover said. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way." "No." Annabeth drew her bronze knife. "You two go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting." "No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind." "Think again, goat boy," Annabeth said.

"I'll stay. I low-key wanna be bros with Hades right now honestly. I also high-key don't want to meet the two sticks up there." "Stop it, I know what to do," Percy said. "Take these." He handed us each a pearl. Annabeth said, "But, Percy..." He turned and faced his mother. I desperately wanted to sacrifice myself and use the last pearl on her, but I knew what she wouldn’t like that. She would never allow it. We had to get the bolt back to Olympus and tell Zeus the truth. We had to stop the war. She would never forgive us if we saved her instead. I thought about the prophecy made at Half-Blood Hill, what seemed like a million years ago, the one Percy shared.

You will fail to save what matters most in the end. "I'm sorry," He told her. "I'll be back. I'll find a way." The smug look on Hades's face faded. He said, "Godling... ?" "I'll find your helm, Uncle," Percy told him. "I'll return it. Remember about Charon's pay raise." "Do not defy me—" "And it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while. He likes red rubber balls." "Percy Jackson, you will not—" He shouted, "Now, guys!" We smashed the pearls at our feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened. Hades yelled, "Destroy them!" The army of skeletons rushed forward, swords out, guns clicking to full automatic. The Furies lunged, their whips bursting into flame. Just as the skeletons opened fire, the pearl fragments at their feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. They were encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground.

"Y/N?" Percy looked at me in shock. Annabeth and Grover were right behind him.

At my feet were dry sand. My eyes widened.

"NO! Y/N!!"

Mrs. Rudolph pulled me close to her as spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles while they floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and I knew it was not going to be a peaceful night in L.A. I could still see Percy and Annabeth trying to break the bubble. But sure enough, they were racing right toward the stalactites, which I figured would pop their bubbles like the two wanted. Then they vanished. I fell on my knees tears filling my eyes.

"D-Did Poseidon just leave me here in hopes you'll kill me...?" I managed to say. Tears were pilling up my eyes.

"Sweetie..." I heard Mrs. Rudolph say. She was back to her soft demeanor, the one she had back then.

"Does he hate me this much? After all I've done to help with this quest? Drowning me wasn't enough?" Tears were now flowing. "Taking my parents and torturing them wasn't enough?"

I curled up my knees and sobs escaped my mouth.

"Y/N..." I heard a familiar voice. I looked up to see Mrs. Jackson.

I gasped and turned to Hades who looked at me with a frown. "You are in luck, I don't wish to kill you. Converse with one another to comfort yourself, I will not provide you of such."

I weak laugh escaped from me, "So, you're a softie huh Hades?"

The ground cracked beneath me but I didn't fall. "Don't make me regret my choices child."

Mrs. Jackson smiled at Hades and gave me a hug. Then as if things couldn't get better, I heard a bark.

"D/N!!" At Hades's foot he sat, a skeleton was holding his leash. "You have him!! You are so my favorite."

Hades signaled the skeleton to free D/N who immediately ran to me.

Our parents had already decided on our parent.

"Yeah." Mrs. Jackson said.

"What?"

"Your parents will tell you who your god parent is." Mrs. Jackson said.

"Don't you guys know?"

"We do." Mrs. Jackson gave a look at Hades who rolled his eyes.

"Only Hades is the parent I want right now. But I don't like the idea of my mom and Hades together."

"I do not wish to have you as a child."

"Go away, I am the best daughter. You'd be honored to have me."

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marshmallow-phd · 6 years

Text

My Soul to Keep

Genre: Demon AU

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Kris Wu

Summary: Kris never had a problem with what he was. He’d bargain and make deals with mortals in exchange for their souls. It was just the job. But when an assignment puts you in his path, he’s suddenly questioning his existence. As the consequences of his choices catch up with him, how much in harms way will you be?

Warning: none

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I Final

Kris stood outside the portal with Yixing and Tao at his flanks.

To any ordinary human, this place would like an old abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere and that’s what it was ninety-nine percent of the day. But to spiritual beings like the three of them, it gave off a pure, colorless light, the rotting door actually made of a thick marble with ancient script carved into its surface. This version of the portal was only available once a day, when the sun was beginning to set and its beams hit the cracks of the stone just right.

“We’re right here with you, Kris,” Yixing encouraged.

Taking a deep, unneeded breath, Kris stepped forward. This was just the first test in the trial. The portal – the stupid, inanimate door – had to decide that he was worthy to even try. That this trip had nothing malicious tied to it and that he was doing it for honorable reasons. Kris was sure that he would get through the barrier. What was more honorable than going after love?

Then why was he so nervous that the door wouldn’t open?

As far as he knew, there was never a time where one of his kind ventured into the other realm. They were all well versed in how it operated and what existed on the other side, but they never stepped foot over there. This was dangerous, unknown territory. He was going in blind. But he had to get to you.

Taking that final step, Kris held up his hand, placing his palm against the cold surface and keeping his mind trained on you.

At first, nothing happened. No movement, no sound, no sign of any kind.

Just as Kris was about to give up, the earth shook with a rumble and he watched in amazement as the marble door slipped away from view, revealing a black opening. What was beyond that, none of them had any idea.

“This is it,” Tao said, mostly likely to hype himself up. “First demons to travel into heaven. No big deal, right?”

Kris shook his head. “Just come on.”

Slowly, the three of them made their way towards the blinding white light and through the portal.

Out on the other side was just darkness. There was nothing. No trees, no people, no dirt. Just… nothing.

Turning around, Kris could still make out Yixing and Tao, but he couldn’t figure out what they were standing on or what was around them.

“Um,” Tao swallowed, “if this heaven, I want to go back to earth.”

“This isn’t the other side,” Yixing clarified. “This is just another test.”

“Orpheus had it easy,” Kris mumbled under his breath. Play a pretty song and don’t look back. That’s all he had to do. Then again, he couldn’t even manage the last part of the instructions.

Out of the darkness, a small dot of light, like a star in the night sky, appeared in the distance.

“There!” Tao pointed towards the light. “Maybe we should head for it?”

Yixing and Kris exchanged looks and shrugged. What else could they do?

They walked towards the light, but it never got any closer, never grew in size. Kris was getting frustrated, but he didn’t know what else to do. He stopped, a strange sound hitting his ears.

“What’s that?” Yixing asked, hearing it to.

The sound grew until Kris could identify it as a rumbling growl. The space beneath him was shaking violently.

“Please tell me it’s not what I think it is,” Tao whined.

Kris cursed under his breath. Sure enough, heading straight for them was the Protector of the Realms of the Dead: Cerberus. The building-sized, three-headed dog was running at them full speed, teeth bared and saliva flying everywhere as he snapped his multiple jaws.

“Run!” Tao screamed, taking off the opposite direction. Yixing and Kris were right on his heels.

As he tried to get away, a memory of you flashed in his mind.

The two of you were trying to coax one of the dogs back inside of the shelter but every time Kris took one step towards the thing, he’d snap at Kris, barely missing his chance to bite.

“You can’t be scared of him,” you teased, scratching the mongrel under his chin. “That makes them think you’re up to something, maybe even plotting something against them. Running away doesn’t do any good. You’ve got to show them some love. And let them know exactly what you want.”

Kris had brushed it off back then, resigning himself to be on cat duty instead. But now….

Skidding to a stop, Kris turned around, standing up straight and facing the dog head on. Besides, as a demon, he shouldn’t be terrified of the animal. Cerberus wasn’t exactly friendly towards anyone, but he was mutual, simply making sure that balance prevailed.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tao yelled. Kris was started to regret bringing him along. He’d forgotten that Tao was easily frightened.

Maybe this whole thing will brave him up a bit.

Cerberus stopped just a few feet away, growling down at Kris. Feeling like an idiot, Kris reached for the middle head, palm out, and waited. The other two heads were staring at Yixing and Tao. Kris motioned for them to do the same.

Once all three of them had their hands out stretched, the over grown dog actually laid down on his stomach, pushing the edges of his noses into their hands.

“I just need to find her,” Kris told the dog softly. “That’s all I want. And then I’ll leave.”

The light that was now behind them grew, shining brightly and illuminating the space around them to reveal a field of wildflowers. With one last yelp, Cerberus melted away, leaving the three of them just standing there out in the open.

“What the hell kind of test was that?” Tao scoffed, kicking at the nearest dandelion and sending the small seeds drifting through the air. If he was trying to be intimidating, it wasn’t working.

“Fear,” Yixing answered simply. “And, of course, he had to make sure we weren’t trying to do anything malicious by coming through here.”

“A cakewalk compared to what’s next,” Kris murmured. Shortly before the horizon was a small community. It couldn’t really be called a town or a city as there weren’t shops or vendors, only living quarters, but there were people milling about, laughing and chatting with each other. That’s where you would be. “Be careful,” Kris warned. “We can’t be discovered that we’re not one of them.”

“What will happen?” Tao asked cautiously.

“You don’t want to know,” Yixing replied.

They walked to the community, forced smiles plastered on their faces, nodding to everyone they made eye contact. Blending in.

This was the “Good Place”, heaven, the other side, whatever you wanted to call it. Everything here was beautiful and harmonious. The houses were made of organic materials and everything was in shades of browns, greens, and blues. Everyone was accommodating and kind.

“I don’t see her,” Yixing whispered.

“Just keep looking,” Kris ordered. “She has to be here somewhere.”

The three of them continued to maneuver around the large groups of people, keeping a sharp eye for anyone who might resemble you. There were a few close calls, Kris spotting someone with your hair color, or Yixing pointing out a similar profile. They all turned out to be false leads.

But he wouldn’t give up. He made it this far, there was no way–

Kris stopped in his tracks, Yixing and Tao running into his back.

There you were, sitting on a bench in the park by yourself and away from everyone else, just taking in the breeze. Kris couldn’t see your face entirely, but there was no mistake that it was you. Over his shoulder, he said, “Stay here. I don’t want to scare her.”

“Why would he scare?” Tao whispered.

Yixing cleared his throat. “Since she died traumatically, she won’t remember anything. It wouldn’t exactly keep the peace if she remembered how she died. This is also Kris’ last trial. To convince her to go back.”

Tao raised an eyebrow. “That’s supposed to be the last trial?”

“Yes. He has to convince her to come back with us. Not an easy feat. No one actually wants to leave here.”

Kris took a second to collect himself before approaching you. At noticing his shadow, you whirled in his direction, startled.

Seeing you again was like being injected with morphine after being on fire. Or perhaps more like a blind man seeing the sun once again. Everything was right again. Even in a simple white dress, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on in his thousand plus years.

“Hi,” he greeted you softly, the smile on his face now small but genuine.

“Hi.” Your voice came out mouse-like, so shyly. Almost as if you were afraid of him. Was fear even allowed in this place?

Kris knelt down in front of you so he was now looking up into your eyes. “My name is Kris. It’s (y/n), right?”

You nodded. Kris hated having to pretend that he didn’t know you inside and out, but he thought it was best. Coming up, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you back to the portal sounded like a wonderful idea at first, but one that would ultimately fail.

He held out his hand, which you hesitantly took, giving it a short shake. He never wanted to let go, but he forced himself to let your fingers slip from his grasp. “I need your help with something.”

“With what?” you questioned, your eyebrows furrowing together. It was such a cute expression Kris could help but chuckle, just a little.

“I have a friend who needs your help.” Kris decided to go with a sort of twisted version of the truth. “She’s… sick and you’re the only one that can make her better.”

“Why me?” you asked.

“I can explain that when we see her.” Standing up, Kris held out his hand. “Will you come with me? We have to go to where she is. You can trust me.”

You stared at him for a good minute, not moving. Kris was already trying to come up with more excuses to get you to come with him but then you took his hand and stood to your feet.

Looking him with a titled head, you surprised him with your next question. “Do I already know you?”

“We’ve met before,” he answered honestly.

You nodded. “I thought so. You just seem so familiar.”

Unable to help it, Kris laced his fingers through yours to which you sent him a shocked expression, but didn’t yank your hand away. Damn, all he wanted was to pull you in close to him and kiss your lips. His self-control was wavering. They needed to get out here. Now.

When Yixing and Tao walked up to the two of you, you hid behind Kris, burying your face in the space between his side and arm.

“It’s alright, (y/n),” Kris soothed. “They’re friends.” If you remembered him subconsciously, then it wasn’t surprising that you would remember them as well, however in a more painful way.

Reluctantly, you came out from hiding and gave the two a small wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Yixing smiled down at you. For a ferocious demon, he had a softening smile, relaxing you almost instantly. That interaction irritated Kris, but he let it go. They needed to leave.

“Come on.”

Kris kept a tight hold on your hand, leading you through the square and back towards the fields. This was almost too easy. Just before they could reach the very edge of the town, someone called out.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Just keep walking,” Kris whispered, not slowly down.

“Stop!”

Sneaking a glance over his shoulder, Kris spotted several unwanted guests. “Shit. Protectors! Run!”

Kris scooped you up into his arms, running at full speed with Yixing and Tao barely keeping up.

Protectors were the vicious versions of angels, nearly identical in looks. While the winged peace lovers had no aggression and only tried to spread love throughout the world in order to have more people reach this side of death, Protectors were the soldiers. Kris had been in a few scuffles with them in the past. They fought dirty and kept on going for their mission. At first, they were beautiful, perfect in every way. But as their fight grew, their faces contorted into ugly snarls with rows of sharp teeth ready to tear its enemies apart.

By a miracle, they made it the field, but there was no portal to be found. How the hell were they supposed to get back?

At least seven Protectors surrounded you all, giving you no way out. The wind had picked up to hurricane speeds, sucking the four of you into a vortex. Yixing put his hands on your shoulders, yelling over the chanting of the Protectors and the whipping air.

“(y/n), I need you to say ‘Vita est responsum’, but you have meant it, okay?”

You shook your head. “Go back where?”

“Baby, look at me,” Kris took your face in his hands, scolding himself for calling you the affectionate term rather than by your name. “We have to get out of here! I promise, I’ll explain everything once we’re safe!”

Nodding, you closed your eyes and screamed, “Vita est responsum!”

The wind stopped. The Protectors were chanting had ceased. Looking around, Kris was relieved. They were back outside the portal, the marble door now just a dull white in the low moonlight.

Tao turned to you, an exhausted pout on his lips. “Please, don’t ever die again. I don’t want to do that as long as I exist.”

You frowned. “Die again?”

“Tao!” Kris hissed through clenched teeth. What an idiot.

“Come on,” Yixing urged, shoving Tao in the direction of the car.

“Kris,” you called out in a strained voice. “What’s going on?” You were scared, nearly shaking in your astral form. Here, you were see-through, a ghost. Anyone passing by would see you and go off running, telling everyone who would listen that the shack was haunted by a beautiful ghost girl in white.

“Please, just come with us,” Kris begged. Yixing was right. They only had a limited amount of time. Spirits couldn’t walk the earth for long and he refused to lose you again. “I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Nodding, you let him lead you to the car, where he sat in the back, thankful that he was able to physically hold this version of you.

Yixing made it back to the mansion in record time and all of you tore through the house, not caring this time around if someone saw you.

Your body was still lying there peacefully on Kris’ bed, Midnight watching over you diligently. He meowed at the sight of everyone. Kris patted him lightly on the head.

“Good boy.”

At seeing your body there on the bed, you scrambled back.

Kris took your hands in his. “(y/n). Listen to me. You did die, but you weren’t meant to. We’ve brought you back so you could finish out your life.”

“This isn’t what you told me,” you said quietly, eyes constantly flickering over to the bed. “I want to go back.”

“You’ll go back again someday,” Kris reminded you. Of course you would. You were too pure and good to deserve the alternative. “But first you have to finish out your life here. Can I put you back? Please?”

To his amazement, you nodded without pausing. Scooping you up, Kris carried you over to your body and gently laid you down. Your spirit disappeared into your body and they all waited. For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. Why couldn’t anything just happen right away?

Kris nearly doubled over when your eyes fluttered open. You took a big gasp of air, flinging up off the bed and into a sitting position.

“Kris!”

He was right by your side, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m right here, baby. I’m right here.”

“You came for me,” you cried, soaking his shirt. “You really came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he scoffed as he rubbed your back.

A slow clap interrupted the beautiful reunion. Everyone whirled to find Minseok leaning against the door frame.

Between his claps, he smirked, “What. An. Idiot.”

190 notes · View notes

lisatelramor · 6 years

Text

NLTSA Extra: Dinner With the Kurobas

Set right after the end of chapter 13 when Kaito invites Saguru over for dinner.

Cooking with Kuroba was...different. As Saguru chopped a growing pile of vegetables and Kuroba put on rice and sliced meat to cook, he couldn’t help comparing it to cooking with Mel. Mel had more of a tendency to shoo Saguru off to the side and take over with micromanaging tendencies in the kitchen though. Kuroba didn’t seem to care that Saguru’s knife skills were less than perfect so long as everything got chopped in more or less similar sizes.

“So you cook,” Saguru said, as Kuroba began mixing up a sauce to go over the meal they were making.

“Obviously,” Kuroba said. “I don’t cook a lot because I’m on the go all the time—easier to just grab something while I’m out—but I’ve lived on my own for years. I’ve been cooking since I was in middle school whenever Kaa-chan took trips. You can cook too.”

“Poorly. Enough to survive off of.” Saguru finished slicing the last of the vegetables as Kuroba tossed the meat into hot oil, using long cooking chopsticks to keep it moving and cooking evenly. “Nothing special.”

“Cooking’s not your thing then?”

“No, that was always Mel’s thing,” Saguru said. Kuroba made an enquiring hum, reaching over to take Saguru’s cutting board and add the vegetables to the mix. Saguru watched, reminded of all the times he’d seen Mel wielding a wooden spoon with similar focus. “He liked to plan meals and try new things and I was always the boring one who would just make a roast and have it for the week if left to my own devices.”

“By roast, do you mean you just cooked a plain slab of meat and ate it?”

“Essentially, yes. Usually you cook it with carrots or potatoes and cabbage.”

Kuroba gave Saguru a flat look. “No offense but that sounds bland as hell.”

Saguru chuckled. “Yes, well, that’s traditional British cooking for you. Bland, and steamed, roasted or boiled. I can cook more than just sticking meat in the oven or boiling pasta.”

“I’d hope so. You wouldn’t have much variety otherwise.” Kuroba flicked his wrist, tossing the pan’s contents around a bit before adding the sauce. It hissed, bubbling and boiling quickly into a thick, sticky coating. “Set the table for me? There’s plates in that cupboard, cups in the one next to it, and chopsticks in the drawer to the right of the sink. I can handle the rice bowls.”

Saguru set the table diligently, putting Kuroba’s generic dishware with its simple floral pattern on the table at three places.

Kuroba was just filling bowls with rice as Saguru put glasses of water around the table when the front door opened. Takumi’s greeting carried in before he was even through the door. “Welcome back,” Kuroba called, filling the last bowl. “Hakuba’s joining us for dinner.”

“Hakuba-sensei?” Takumi poked his head around the entryway. He had his lacrosse uniform still on and a heavy sports bag over one shoulder, which he set down next to the pile of shoes. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought it might be nice to have company,” Kuroba said cheerfully. “How was practice?”

“Fine. I think I’ll make an alternate this year if I can get my aim just a little better. Or if someone gets injured.” Takumi scrunched his nose. “Which hopefully won’t happen.” He wandered over to the sink to wash his hands, giving Saguru a tiny nod like he wasn’t sure what the polite thing to do was when a teacher was unexpectedly in his home. They’d shared tea and stories often enough that it wasn’t too awkward though. “Kei-kun and Mirai-senpai said they’d help me work on some techniques next week though so I can be ready for the summer tournaments.”

“You’ll have to give me a list of game dates. I’ll try to make a few over the summer.”

“Sure. Oh, and I have a group report in History, so I have to meet up tomorrow with a few classmates. It shouldn’t take too long though, so we can still work on the thing with the doves you wanted to show me. It’ll just have to be in the evening.”

“I’ll make plans to have dinner at Obaa-san’s house then.”

Kuroba and Takumi moved around each other with the ease of people who shared a kitchen space frequently. Takumi even grabbed the last rice bowl to take to the table in the absentminded sort of way of habit, used to helping set the table then. Saguru felt a little out of place. He didn’t know where to sit, and surely the Kurobas had their preferred places.

Takumi solved that problem, plopping into the chair at the setting missing its rice, and Kuroba sat on the other side. It left Saguru sitting next to Kuroba.

Takumi took one look at the stir fry with the thin sliced pork stir fried in it and gave Kuroba a glowing smile. “I am so hungry after practice and this so beats the usual Friday night combini meal.”

“I’m not that bad am I?” Kuroba asked.

“About cooking?” Takumi picked up his chopsticks. “You save your cooking energy for Saturday, but nine times out of ten, Friday ends up a convenience store meal. I don’t mind, but you made ginger pork stir fry. This is great.”

“I really can and do cook,” Kuroba said, giving Saguru a serious look that almost hid the glimmer of humor in his eyes. “You’d think I only ever feed him onigiri and takeaway.”

“You’re a good cook, but Kaa-san’s tonkatsu still beats yours,” Takumi said. “Now can we please eat? I just spent more than an hour running around with a stick. I am starving.”

“We should make him wait,” Kuroba said in a loud whisper to Saguru. Takumi gave his father a betrayed look.

Saguru rolled his eyes. “As the guest, I think we should eat.”

“If you say so. Itadakimasu!” Kuroba said, cheerfully clapping his hands together. He didn’t let on that his ribs were bruised at all, not when cooking and not now as he leaned over to dish out food. It was both impressive and unnerving, because it left the question of if Saguru had missed other injuries in the past just because Kuroba was that good of an actor.

Takumi echoed Kuroba and dug into his food the second his plate was filled. Saguru took his time in comparison as Kuroba launched into an explanation of his current work project, his coworker’s lives, and various neighborhood gossip between bites of food, all unprompted. Takumi threw in a question here or there that showed he was both listening and knew who Kuroba was talking about. Saguru let the chatter wash over him, content to listen. It was a bit like family meals when he and Mel used to visit Mum, only with less pointed comments in his direction to engage him in the conversation. It used to exasperate them whenever Saguru sat back and listened; they could never quite get that sometimes he just liked to watch two people he cared deeply about interacting. It was a little different now, of course, more seeing sides to Kuroba and Takumi he hadn’t seen before, but the feeling was similar.

It was a bit of a bittersweet feeling in that similarity... Saguru turned his attention to his plate, pushing that emotion away.

“—Hakuba-sensei?” Takumi’s voice registered.

Saguru glanced up and found both Kurobas looking at him, heads tilted to the side like mirror images. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I just asked how your day went,” Takumi said. “You had Mai-chan and Hanasaki-san from class C get into an argument in your last English class, right?”

“Yes.” The day was a haze, all caught up in worry but that had happened. “To be honest it barely interrupted the class. I sent them in the hall and kept teaching.”

“...Wouldn’t they just keep arguing in the hall?” Takumi asked.

“So long as they weren’t being a disruption, I could have cared less at that moment.”

Takumi snorted. “I can half picture it—no wonder people in class C weren’t sure what to think of it. Usually you stop, give a warning or something and mark your book, and start back up again. Aren’t teachers supposed to care when that kind of thing happens?”

“Everyone has off days. Honestly, I couldn’t be less interested in knowing who was angry at whom over some romantic interest that likely has no interest in either of them.”

“Hakuba, you mean to say you ignore the gossip mill?” Kuroba said, mock-scandalized.

“I hear it whether I want to or not,” Saguru said drily, “so no, I suppose I do not ignore it.”

“Teachers follow the gossip mill?” Takumi asked.

“Of course. Teachers gossip just as much as their student body.”

“More, if half of what I hear is true,” Kuroba said, amused.

Saguru bet he meant Erika. Their old homeroom teacher had to be one of Kuroba’s sources. Saguru was still trying to figure out all of them, but he supposed Takumi could possibly count as another.

“I’ve been in that gossip,” Takumi said with a deeply uncomfortable expression. “What do they think of me? Holy crap, I just realized teachers might talk about me when I’m not there.”

“And students talk about their teachers all the time,” Saguru said, wondering how on earth this could be news.

“They know about my life and they might talk about it.” Takumi sat back in his chair like he was having a revelation. Saguru exchanged a glance with Kuroba. Kuroba looked far too amused. “That is extremely weird, especially because I know almost nothing about my teachers. Except for you, Hakuba-sensei.”

“That is normal. We’re at school to do our jobs and be professional. You’re at school to learn and be yourselves.”

“But you’re people.”

“Yes.”

“Of course you’re people, ignore that.” He waved a hand, erasing his words in a gesture. “I know teachers have outside lives, but I’ve never really thought about it. What do they do at the end of the day? What do they do in their free time? Why do they willingly teach the mess that is high school, I mean...why?”

Saguru couldn’t help laughing. “You know, it’s not much different from our students. We go home, deal with homework, and sometimes we even see friends or do things that might be considered fun by the majority of the population.” Saguru took a sip of water and added, “Although as to why, I can’t say with full certainty that all teachers aren’t somewhat drawn to things that will give them headaches. Or at least that’s true in my case.”

Kuroba laughed at that, catching his eye and no doubt thinking of Saguru’s old habit of pitting himself against Kid despite never truly gaining the upper hand. “You’re all a little bit masochistic?” There was a teasing lilt to that that had a blush crawling across Saguru’s cheeks before he could fully control his reaction. Kuroba looked terribly smug, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Takumi’s face scrunched in disgust. “Ew. No. Stop and don’t even bring that word up.”

“I didn’t say they are masochists just that they have a trend toward—”

“No.” Takumi jabbed his chopsticks in Kuroba’s direction. “I’m going to need brain bleach.”

Saguru cleared his throat, pushing the blush down. “More honestly, I like seeing people grow into their potential,” Saguru offered, nudging the conversation back to a safe track. “High school is where interests are being discovered and dreams take first steps.”

“Huh.” Takumi glanced at Saguru and away again just as fast. “Makes sense I guess.”

“You always did look for the good sides in people,” Kuroba said.

“I feel like nostalgia gives me too much credit; I liked understanding, but whether or not I empathized with them was an entirely different story.” He hadn’t exactly been empathetic toward Kuroba’s situation back then, at least not at first. Saguru finished the last of his food. Kuroba was a decent cook. It was certainly better than anything Saguru had made since moving to Japan. “Thank you for the meal.”

“You don’t want more?” Kuroba had the rice paddle in hand, ready to scoop out more if Saguru wanted, but Saguru declined the offer with a shake of his head.

“I’m full.” Both Kurobas looked at him like they thought he should eat more. Kuroba added another scoop of rice to his own bowl, perhaps trying to prove some convoluted point. Or maybe he was just still hungry. Not everything was a mind game to be read into. “I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“You barely ate enough then,” Kuroba said, “considering how much running around you did.”

“I don’t do much running at all now, so I don’t need seconds.” Takumi’s eyes flicked toward Saguru’s cane and away. Kuroba just kept up eye contact until Saguru rolled his eyes and held out his rice bowl. “Fine, but not much. I really am full.” Feeding people had to be a thing with Kuroba. Between the random gifts of food and how he seemed to enjoy seasonal food items to their fullest, food had some meaning in Kuroba’s personal interactions. Saguru could eat a bit more if it made Kuroba stop giving him a look that resembled some of the looks he’d gotten from his mother in the last year. “I do feed myself on a regular basis, Kuroba.”

“You make one meal for the week and pack sandwiches and salads for lunches,” Kuroba said.

“It’s efficient.”

“It’s boring. You don’t even order out.”

“It cuts costs to prepare your own food.”

“Since when is money an issue?”

Kuroba had him there, it really wasn’t an issue. “It’s financially responsible.”

“It’s bo-ring,” Kuroba repeated. “And you can’t be getting all your vitamins and minerals when you eat pasta for a week straight.”

Saguru chose to be the adult here and ignore him instead of continuing a pointless argument. Even if it was Kuroba teasing him. He could see that smirk twitching at the corner of Kuroba’s lips. Saguru finished the extra rice with pointed silence.

Takumi helped himself to thirds.

“So, while Takumi’s doing the dishes—” Kuroba said.

“Hey!”

“—want to pick out a game for after dinner?” Kuroba finished.

“Nothing with playing cards,” Saguru said instantly. “I’m sure both of you cheat.”

“I don’t cheat,” Takumi protested. Kuroba snorted. Takumi kicked at him under the table, clearly missing and hitting the table leg by the way all the dishes rattled. “Well, I only cheat against Tou-san because otherwise he’d never lose. It’s a survival strategy.”

“I only cheat against you half the time. You just have bad luck with cards.”

“Yours isn’t the greatest either, or were you dealing Kaa-san good hands that time I convinced her to play poker with us and Baa-chan?”

“Point,” Kuroba said. “Aoko’s luck trumps all of ours. So, Hakuba, stay for a game?”

Saguru glanced at Takumi, but he didn’t seem to mind the thought of playing a game with Saguru if his open interest was anything to go by. There wasn’t much waiting for him back in his apartment. He set down his chopsticks, meal finished. “I’ll stay.”

“Great! Come look at the game selection.”

“Nothing that will take all night,” Takumi said, rolling his eyes at Kuroba gleefully directing Saguru to a shelf with games stacked on it.

“Well that rules out a few.”

There were a good number of games, most of which Saguru had never heard of, ranging from what appeared to be adventure games, to card games, to games that required constructing things. It was no surprise to find something like Jenga with Kuroba’s steady hands, but he had to raise an eyebrow at some of them. “Too Many Cinderellas?”

“It’s fun. You try to convince the prince who Cinderella is, and sometimes it gets pretty ridiculous,” Kuroba said, content to let Saguru make the game choice.

Saguru kept looking. There were a few foreign games in the mix, like Monopoly and—Saguru’s eye caught on a familiar box. “How about Cluedo?”

Kuroba snorted. “You’re so predictable.”

“Just because it’s a mystery game doesn’t mean I’m predictable.”

“No?” Kuroba teased. “Then you just happen to choose one of the only mystery games in the mix by chance?”

“It’s one I recognize and enjoy,” Saguru defended, pulling the box free.

“Did you know there’s a Kaito Kid version that was made locally?” Kaito said in a lower voice. “The point of the game is to figure out who is actually Kid and how the target was stolen.”

“Sounds like a fun and thematically appropriate game. We should play it sometime.”

Kuroba grinned. “Thought you’d say that. Sadly I don’t own it. Kaa-san does though. Maybe I’ll borrow it and drag her into playing a game with us.”

“Somehow I’m sure you’ll still manage to cheat. Or automatically end up as Kid.”

“Haha, very funny.” Kaito snatched the box from Saguru and cleared a space on the coffee table for the board. “Just for that, you get to be Mr. Green.”

“What’s wrong with Mr. Green?”

“Nothing. That’s the joke.”

Saguru looked at him blankly. This was the classic version of the game so Green was a conniving priest, and he honestly couldn’t see the connection.

“...You’ve never seen the movie based on the game have you?” Kuroba said after a moment.

“There’s a movie?”

“We,” Kuroba said with mock seriousness, “definitely need to have a movie night some night, because if you enjoy the game and ridiculous eighties American films, it will be right up your alley.”

“Another time then,” Saguru said. He wouldn’t mind the chance to watch a movie with Kuroba at any rate. Although he wouldn’t have thought an American comedic film would be Kuroba’s choice, but what did Saguru know?

“So you’re choosing Clue?” Takumi said, dishes washed and set in the strainer. “How stereotypical, Hakuba-sensei.”

“I know, right?” Kuroba snickered.

Saguru rolled his eyes and let them have their fun.

“It’s a fun game though,” Takumi continued. “Hakuba-sensei gets to shuffle and deal out the cards.”

“Don’t trust me?” Kuroba said.

“Nope. You’re the one who taught Shiemi and me to cheat after all.”

“I’m hurt,” Kuroba said with exaggerated dramatics. He draped himself back along the couch, one hand over his eyes. It was all very amusing until Saguru remembered that Kuroba actually was hurt, and then it was a bit worrisome, but Kuroba popped back up again when the act didn’t get him a reaction. Not too hurt to play around at least. “No defending my name, Hakuba? Some friend you are.”

“You want me to lie?” Saguru asked, deadpan. “I’m not sure my detective sensibilities will allow it.”

Kuroba and Takumi both snorted at the same time. Takumi looked away, red faced and trying not to laugh even as he seemed to find the humor embarrassing. Saguru took the chance to snag the cards.

“Let’s play to learn who killed Mr. Boddy, shall we?”

“Professor Plum, in the study with the candlestick,” Kuroba said under his breath.

Saguru was going to make sure Kuroba lost, he decided. Just because. It didn’t matter whether Saguru or Takumi won, just that Kuroba lost a game for once. “In that case be Plum.”

“Nope, I call Mrs. White.”

“...The maid.”

“Yup.”

“I’m Scarlet,” Takumi said. When both adults glanced at him, he shrugged. “I like red.”

Scarlet brought a few too many memories of Koizumi Akako to mind for Saguru’s peace of mind. “Well let’s play then.”

Cards went into the file for the eventual reveal, and the rest were doled out.

Kuroba, it seemed, was the type to take the ‘jump around the board and confuse what is really being searched for’ sort of strategist. Saguru was more methodical, and Takumi was somewhere in between their styles. Saguru was somewhat convinced that both Kurobas were substituting loaded dice at one point, but he had yet to see them trade off and honestly they might just have good enough control to get the die to land on high numbers.

Kuroba had to dramatically act out each time he made an accusation. It took a few times for Saguru to realize he was imitating detectives he knew each time, though when he made up precise times and methodology in an imitation of Saguru’s reveal method, it was abundantly clear what he was doing. It was both irritating and amusing at the same time, and the game was the most fun Saguru had in a while. No pressure, just simple challenge of trying to out-think someone else.

Takumi won in the end. It was Saguru and Kuroba’s fault for getting too involved in trying to throw each other off that they half forgot about the other player in the game.

Takumi gave them both an exasperated look as he said, “Mrs. White, in the ballroom with a revolver, now will you please stop smirking at each other?” He opened the envelope and fanned out the cards to reveal that he was right.

“I guess you were the killer after all, Kuroba,” Saguru said.

“Damn, and I was between White and Mustard.” Kuroba tossed down his cards.

“I had Mustard the entire time, I was trying to figure out whether anyone had the pipe, rope, or revolver.”

“You both have tunnel vision and shouldn’t be allowed to play games against each other,” Takumi said. “Tou-san clearly kept guessing the rope because he already had it. Now I’m going to go to bed because I asked for a game that wouldn’t take all night and you both dragged the game on forever.” He had his hands on his hips like he was the adult in the situation and it was spoiled a bit by how he kept forcing himself not to smile. “Goodnight, Hakuba-sensei,” Takumi said. “It was...pretty nice having you over for dinner.”

“Thank you both for the hospitality.”

“Stop being so formal all the time,” Kuroba said.

“It’s called being polite. You should try it.”

“Goodnight,” Takumi repeated, exasperated. Saguru could hear him mutter something about acting the wrong ages as he wandered off to his bedroom.

When Saguru glanced at Kuroba, Kuroba looked...happy. Content, like he couldn’t imagine a better way to end the day and all was right with the world. To a lesser extent, Saguru found that he felt similarly at peace. Tonight was the most he’d laughed in...well, in a long time. A long, long time.

“Kuroba,” Saguru said softly, unwilling to break the moment by speaking louder. “Thank you. Truly.”

“Anytime, Hakuba,” Kuroba said. He smiled, maybe the truest smile Saguru had seen on his face in the whole of their acquaintance. “Anytime.”

That smile made Saguru want to commit it to memory, dissect every detail of its features and hoard it close with other similarly precious moments. He probably had an equally open expression at the moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about what Kuroba might or might not take from an unguarded and happy moment. Let Kuroba see him relaxed along with all the rest of Saguru’s myriad of emotions.

It was Kuroba who looked away first. “We’ll still have to watch that movie sometime.”

“Of course.”

“And maybe do this again. Dinner. And a game.”

“I would like that.”

“Good.”

That would be the ideal moment to leave, probably. Saguru didn’t really want to go just yet, but the clock on the wall matched the digital one blinking next to the TV, both showing almost nine.

Saguru reached for his cane. “Goodnight, Kuroba.”

“Night, Hakuba,” Kuroba said. He busied himself in picking up the Cluedo pieces, shuffling them about. “See you maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Saguru echoed agreeably before letting himself out. It wasn’t like either of them had to go far if they wanted to talk.

#magic kaito #fanfiction #my writing #not left to stand alone extra #nltsa

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